


Show Me How You Burlesque

by Avasti



Series: Music Prompts: Persona 5 [2]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Creampie, M/M, Pole Dancing, Stripping, Table Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:33:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23705419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avasti/pseuds/Avasti
Summary: Once again. This song came up. I played Final Fantasy VII remake (that dance tho), and I thought. Adult Akira + Dance + burlesque + a little fem = tasty good timesUPDATE!!!Explicit now! Haha.. ha.. I got bored and kinda hated myself for how the original fic turned out, so I revisited it and got... a little carried away...So, If you enjoy adult entertainment, and messy table sex in a back room at Crossroads bar, you and I will be good friends.Enjoy! Concrit always welcome, my friends!!
Relationships: Iwai Munehisa/Kurusu Akira
Series: Music Prompts: Persona 5 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1707226
Comments: 7
Kudos: 81





	Show Me How You Burlesque

Iwai walked into the red lit interior of Crossroads bar. It had become his new favorite when he found out Akira worked there cleaning tables. He sat at the bar and scanned the room. Only Lala Escargot was bustling around. Akira said he was working tonight, with a wink and an invitation. Iwai suddenly had a bad feeling.

Ever since the kid turned 20, he hung around the bar more and more. He was finally able to serve drinks and occasionally dressed up with Lala. He sure was pretty enough to pull off drag and got hit on far too often for Iwai’s liking. They weren’t together, but he still felt… what? A connection? Akira had always shown interest in him. Even when the kid was still, well, a kid.

Upon his return to Tokyo, and the beginning to his College career, it was hard not to notice how he’d grown. His somewhat gangly frame filled out with well defined muscles. His physical maturity finally matched the eerie maturity of his eyes. His unkempt curly hair was cut shorter, and therefore easier to manage. Either due to the loss of his curtain of curls, or simply maturing, Akira also developed significantly more confidence. He boldly spoke out against wrongdoers and stood up for people who couldn’t do so for themselves. Nearly done with his political science major, Akira worked hard to wedge himself into the Diet.

None would guess his desired occupation by watching him, though. As he still lived in Leblanc’s attic, worked at Crossroads every other night, the Convenience store on days that ended in seven, and Untouchable any time Iwai let him. To say he was a workaholic would be a colossal understatement.

Lala’s voice brought Iwai out of his musing, “Care for a drink, honey?”

“The usual. Where’s the kid?”

She looked at him, eyebrows raised as she filled a glass with whiskey, “He didn’t tell you?”

Uh-oh, “Tell me what?”

She gave him a coy smile, “Enjoy the show.”

Iwai took the drink and downed nearly half of it. He could already tell the night would be long. He looked around the space and pursed his lips as he found where the show would take place. A slightly raised platform with a sturdy polished pole in the center. 

As he requested his second refill of the night, the vocals of an american songstress poured out of the speakers, lights slowly coming up on stage, silhouetting a feminine figure, leaning sinuously against the pole, curly hair tipping Iwai off. How could a man have such an alluring figure. Did Akira workout specifically to look the part or-

Oh

As the bass started, the front lights fully illuminated the stage. Akira faced away from the crowd, shifting his leather clad hips to the music and waiting for the four others to join him. They all wore black and red laced corsets and black high heeled pumps. The girls had black tights on, no doubt to match Akira’s leather. 

Every performer on stage had allure. But only one held Iwai’s attention. Red lips, black eyeliner, curly hair, matching black heels, and a very recognizable mask in place. He held everyone’s attention, in fact. Oozing sex, Akira worked the stage, allowing the girls to scamper into place around the bar, offering attention to men uninterested in the succubus on stage. 

The kid was flexible. Even confined in a constricting corset and pants, his body moved sinuously, grinding back against the pole in time with the music. The hand not holding the pole slid over his body, unfastening the clasps of the corset until the entire thing fell away. The lights worked in tandem with his movements, dimming as he stripped and illuminating his bare skin in flattering warm light. At the angle the light shone, Akira’s muscles were all on display, perfectly shadowing the contours of his well defined chest and stomach and drawing easy attention to the front of his pants, which left nothing to the imagination. 

Moving to the nearest table, Akira stayed on his knees, playing to the patron lucky enough to be seated there. His movements could hardly be considered dancing, looking more and more like he was riding an invisible cock. The music climaxed as Akira moved across tables, playfully chastising, though not correcting, wandering hands. 

When the song reached a slower section, he hopped off the table, blowing a kiss to the patron who folded a ¥10,000 banknote into the waist of his clinging leather pants, and used all the seduction in his repertoire to stride behind the bar. Kissing Lala’s cheek with a saucy wink, he lifted himself effortlessly onto the bar to finish out the routine.

Iwai couldn’t tear his eyes away. Even as the song ended and Akira slithered off the bar, grinning at Lala’s discontented grunt. Akira finally locked eyes with Iwai, tongue snaking out to wet his bottom lip. He leaned against the bar and grabbed the drink from in front of him. 

“How was the show?”

Iwai’s throat was dry. How the hell was he supposed to go home with the tent in his pants. He swallowed and cleared his throat,

“It… was good. Very uh… captivating.”

Akira’s gunmetal grey eyes sparkled as he downed the stolen drink. He set the glass down and leaned across the bar, lips brushing Iwai’s ear,

“Come with me?”

Who could say no?

Iwai immediately stood as Akira rounded the bar, leading him into one of the dimly lit rooms in the back of the bar. Patrons on the way all let out low whistles and catcalls in Akira’s direction, but the young man ignored them. His one focus being the room and the man following him.

As soon as Akira had the door locked, Iwai was upon him, spinning him around and pressing him roughly against the door. He took both of the younger man’s hands and held them above his head, kissing him with fervor. Akira whimpered at the assault and canted his hips forward, grinding against Iwai’s obvious erection. Iwai growled and bit down on the boy’s lush lower lip. 

Pulling back, he admired his new partner. Cheeks flushed, lips kiss swollen and beautifully red, eyes heavy lidded behind his mask. Iwai ran his hand over Akira’s revealed torso, rough fingers causing delicious friction over his flushed chest. Iwai leaned down and took one of Akira’s nipples into his mouth, twirling the stiff bud with his tongue and savoring the breathy moan that escaped blood red lips. He brought his hand up and pinched the other, causing the body beneath him to squirm and press closer.

Akira was moaning nonsense, trying to get Iwai to stop and begging for more. The man had shifted his hips out of grinding range, so Akira uselessly humped the air between them. The rough treatment of his left nipple was soon eased by an expert tongue and the hand causing much of his distress eased southward. Iwai paused his hand just over the clasp holding the leather pants up, running his nails over the sensitive flesh there, making Akira squirm even more.

“Shit, Iwai, _please.”_

“Hmm?”

“FU-ck. Fuck me, please. I-I’m prepped, please. Gods I’ve wanted you since you eye fucked me when I was dancing. I’m begging you!”

Iwai watched him beg with an unreadable expression. Akira was ready to sob. To fall to his knees and present himself like a dog in heat. Anything to make the man fucking mount him. Anything.

It must have been in his eyes, because Iwai deftly loosed the clasp and shucked Akira’s pants down. He released his arms and kneeled, lifting Akira’s legs one by one to remove the shoes and pant legs. When the offending leather was gone, Iwai eyed the heels. Akira leaned down and lifted Iwai’s chin, kissing him deeply. He pulled away and offered a smile,

“I’ll wear them, if you want. While you fuck me?”

Iwai hadn’t known that idea was arousing to him until he heard it from Akira. He helped him step back into the heels and drew himself up to his full height. Akira was blushing lightly, standing entirely naked save for his mask and heels, while Iwai was fully dressed.

Iwai liked seeing the usually confident man fidget. He stepped to the side and pointed to the table in the room,

“Sit on the table.”

Attempting to take back some of his dignity, Akira haughtily adjusted his hair and strutted to the table, knowing full well what his practiced stride would do to Iwai. He spun on his heel and lifted himself onto the table, leaning back on his elbows and lifting his legs slightly. He looked at Iwai just standing there and pouted,

“Iwai, I feel so empty.” 

Iwai gave an amused smirk and walked closer, examining the impatient young man before him. He hummed and started removing his coat. Unbearably slowly.

Akira growled and laid back, tucking his feet under him to gain purchase and lifted his hips in the air. He coasted his hand down his chest, gripping his straining cock and giving himself a few pulls, letting out lewd whining moans. He bit his lip and forced his hand to stop moving. His fun wouldn’t end so soon. He moved his hand further between his legs, rubbing his soaked hole and shuddering at the sensation.

As he pushed his fingers inside, he looked at Iwai, “I held a plug until I had to dance. I’m so glad you came tonight, I dunno what I would've done without you here.” He cut himself off as his fingers brushed over the little bundle of nerves and his hips lifted further into the air, seeking friction.

Watching Akira contort himself, riding his own fingers and dripping onto the table, Iwai was blindly thankful the younger man had the sense to stretch himself before this. He made short work of his pants, shucking them to mid thigh and grabbing Akira’s ass with both hands. Akira, sensing the next move, gripped Iwai’s length with his lube soaked hand, coating the man before lifting both hands above his head.

Iwai didn’t need more of an invitation as he thrust into the soft compliant body beneath him. Akira keened, back arching off the table as Iwai pressed inside to the hilt. The man stilled, watching Akira’s face for any discomfort. Not to mention, he was one thrust away from embarrassing himself.

Akira glared at him, _“Move.”_

Iwai laughed breathlessly and gave a shallow thrust, squeezing the globes of Akira’s ass as he pulled him slightly off the table. Akira moved his legs to Iwai’s shoulders and shuddered as the man thrust into him with slightly more force. Iwai shifted his hips until he found it. The bundle of nerves that could bring any man to his knees in mere moments. 

He pulled out, nearly entirely, leaving only the head inside the younger man. Akira whined, attempting to move, to pull his length back inside, to feel the sweet burn and pleasurable fullness. Akira’s hands reached for Iwai’s hips. None of that to be tolerated. Iwai grabbed both Akira’s wrists in one hand and pinned them above his head. Effectively folding him in half. 

Iwai gave a punishing thrust back inside, given the new position he hit his mark, feeling Akira’s walls tighten around him. The sudden tightness brought the lingering heat in his gut to a near inferno. He felt his control slipping and grasped Akira’s weeping length with his free hand, pumping the younger man as he pounded into him.

The sounds of their coupling could probably be heard over the thrumming bass, as they grew louder and louder. Iwai’s thrusts grew erratic and his fist tighter over Akira’s cock. 

Iwai brushed their lips together, a mocking of a kiss, as both were too far gone for the real thing, “Fuck, ‘kira… ‘m so close.”

“Mune-san, nngh… hah-me- me too… pl-please… Mune-”

Akira threw his head back, crying out as his climax tore through him. He tightened impossibly around Iwai, sending him into blinding pleasure. Akira could feel the pulse of his cock inside him, spurring his cock to attempt to compete, giving weak little spurts over Iwai’s fist and his own chest.

As they came down from their collective high, their heavy breathing matching, Iwai gently pulled out. He looked around the room, then gave Akira a sympathetic smile,

“Got a towel?”

Covering his still masked eyes with his arm, Akira laughed, “Yeah, just… gimme a sec.”

“Tell me where and I can grab it.”

“Nnnn… It’s kinda…” he removed his arm and smiled, “Find my bag? It should be under the couch.”

Iwai frowned at the smile, but searched regardless, finding a black bag under the red velvet couch, “This it?”

“Yeah, gimme.”

Akira reached for it, grabbing with his hands like a child. When he got it, he pulled the bag open and removed a glass plug. Iwai raised his eyebrows and Akira locked eyes with him, easing the plug into his ass. 

“Fuck, kid…”

“Mm… Just until I can bathe.” Akira slowly got to his feet, kicking off the heels and pulled black sweats, a shirt, and a towel from the bag, tossing the towel to Iwai.

After cleaning himself to the best of his ability and making himself at least somewhat presentable, Iwai watched Akira dress. Even exhausted and no doubt sore he had the grace of a gymnast. 

Akira caught him staring and smirked, “Yes?”

“What are we?” What? Wait did he just say that?

His shock must have registered on his face because Akira laughed, “Whatever you want, Mune-san. But I’m not giving you up. I’ve been trying for years to get your attention. Call us what you like… boyfriends, lovers, monogamous fuck buddies, just fuck buddies…”

“Boyfriends?”

“Okay!”

“Wait, no-”

Akira ignored his stuttering and kissed him demurely on the cheek, “Lets go to the diner, I’m starving.”

“But your ass…”

“Yeah, filled with cum. I can still eat.”

How is this the same blushing man? 

Iwai laughed and grabbed his coat, slinging it around Akira’s shoulders, “Alright, let’s go eat.”

They walked out together, ignoring the jealous looks of many others in the bar and wishing Lala a good night, Akira promising to return when the bar closed to clean his room, bringing loud laughter and more catcalls to follow them out the door.

**Author's Note:**

> I love these prompts, but I am SO bad at picking songs! If you guys wouldn't mind offering up some songs that would make good prompts? Help please!


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